YOU AND ME AND THE DEVIL MAKES 3
by ReaperFiction
Summary: Ryou and Marik have been happily living together for over a year now, but in the past couple of months an unwanted guest from their past has been showing up and trying to wedge his way into their lives. They don't know what Bakura wants, nor do they know how he managed to stick around, but they do know they've got to get rid of him. Angstshipping, one-sided Thiefshipping.
1. Marik

Marik Ishtar paused at the door of the apartment and listened, as he'd taken to doing whenever he came home alone. With arms full of groceries, he knew he'd have to enter at some point, but he liked to be prepared. In the past couple of months, he'd learned that Ryou wasn't the only person living with him in the apartment.

Today, the TV was blaring. It sounded like and action movie. That was a sign, one Marik didn't like at all. Swallowing, he slid the key into the lock as quietly as he could and opened the door.

"Need some help?" The voice, so much harsher than Ryou's, was mocking.

"I'm fine, thanks," Marik said flatly, nudging the door shut behind him and removing his shoes. "What are_you_ doing here?"

"Thought I'd drop by to visit an old friend!" Bakura replied, as he always did.

Like usual, Marik retorted, "I'm not your friend."

"Come now! We've been through so much together!" Bakura rose from the couch and slid into a seat at the breakfast bar, watching Marik as though he was doing something a hell of a lot sexier than putting away bread and canned corn.

"Did you bring some sweets for my dear host?" asked Bakura.

"As a matter of fact, I did," Marik snapped, pulling a box of chocolate doughnuts out of one of the grocery bags.

"Ahh, you truly love him!" Bakura said. There was something cruel in his voice.

Marik sighed in a bored way. Whenever he came home to Bakura rather than Ryou, the Spirit tried to goad him, almost tease him, sometimes. At first he'd easily gotten under Marik's skin, but by now he was used to it – or had at least learned not to show his rage.

"So, how long are you sticking around this time?" Marik asked.

Bakura chuckled. "What? Didn't you miss me?"

"Just go away," Marik stated, his anger slipping into his words.

At this, the cruel yet somehow playful smile vanished from the Spirit's face. He stared at Marik with blank eyes and uttered a single word:

"No."

Marik paused for half a second in the motion of putting away a container of yogurt, but then he shrugged it off. Bakura never did agree to go away, no matter what Marik said. Maybe he would be around for a week, maybe he'd be gone within the hour. Marik could handle it.

"Come now, Marik, don't you remember all the good times we had? Why do you bother sticking around _here_, when we could – "

"Is _that_ why you keep showing up?" Marik interrupted. "You want me to – what? – _run away with you_?" He snorted. "Keep dreaming, Bakura. I'm perfectly happy here, with Ryou, and I'd be even happier if you'd leave us alone!"

Bakura put a hand to his chest. "Why, Marik … I'm hurt!"

"I don't care," Marik said mockingly.

"Still sore about that?"

"What I'm _sore_ about isn't quite so simple."

"Tell me, then. I'm sure we can work it out."

"There's nothing to work out. And there is no we. Now let Ryou out, or – "

"Or what, Marik?" Bakura growled, all of the smooth playfulness gone from his voice. "What could you possibly do to save poor, sweet Ryou? Are you going to beat me up? Go right ahead. This body is still nothing but a vessel to me. You've no Millennum Item to threaten me with, no Ring to throw carelessly into a forest. What will you do, Marik? What will you – "

The Spirit's voice suddenly caught in his throat. His eyes slid out of focus, a shudder ran through his body and … he collapsed. Marik ran to him and lifted the limp form to a seated position. His head lolled against Marik's shoulder.

"Ryou?" he asked, heartbeat quickening with panic. "Ryou, are you there?"

The white haired boy exhaled softly, then squirmed slighty. Slowly, Ryou – Marik hoped to the gods that it was Ryou – opened his eyes. He shifted cautiously, then looked up at Marik. Quietly, and with a weariness laced through his words, he said, "I'm sorry, Marik."

"Ryou, it's you! I'm so glad! Are you okay? And … what was that?" Marik added as an afterthought.

Ryou started to rise. "Perhaps I ought to make some tea…"

"No. I'll make tea, you go sit." Marik started to help Ryou up.

"Really, Marik, I'll be fine, I just –"

"Ryou, please."

There was something in the Egyptian's voice that made Ryou give in. "Alright, alright."

A few minutes later, the two sat in the living room nursing steaming mugs of tea. Ryou had his knees drawn up to his chin, while Marik sat cross-legged facing him. Marik waited patiently for the other boy to gather his thoughts and begin to explain whatever it was that he needed to explain. Though questions chased each other around in his head, he did his best to push them away.

"I should have told you all of this when it first began," Ryou said at last. "I just ... didn't want you to worry. And I was afraid you'd ..." He trailed off, sipped some tea. "The thing is, the Spirit of the Millennium Ring was somehow able to fuse a piece of his soul with mine."

Marik nearly dropped his mug. "What?!"

"Some days he fights for dominance from the moment I wake up," Ryou went on, ignoring Marik's reaction. "Other days, he's completely silent. But since I don't black out anymore when he does take over, I assume he's always listening."

Marik blanched. _"Always?_"

Ryou turned pink and smiled apologetically. "Well, perhaps not_always_ always."

"Can we get rid of him?" asked Marik. "It must take a lot out of you to fight him, and ... well, I'm not too fond of him popping up at random. Or at all."

"I'm trying," was all Ryou said in reply.

They drank their tea in silence. Or rather, Ryou drank. Marik let his go cool in his hands, thinking about what he had just been told. He wondered if Ryou's relationship with Bakura was now more like his and his evil side's had been. Different people, yet of the same soul, one always fighting to take over ... He shook the thoughts off, not wanting to think about his evil self.

"Does this mean you heard all that the Spirit and I said to each other?" he asked suddenly.

Ryou nodded. "Yes, and I've got one question."

Marik tensed, a ball of dread knotting in his stomach. Perhaps Ryou thought that there had once been something between him and the Spirit. There hadn't been, of course, not from Marik's side anyway, but that did nothing to ease Marik's apprehension.

Ryou turned to him and smiled. "Might I have one of those doughnuts now?"


	2. The First Time

Marik rolled over and turned off the alarm. Six a.m. was a cruel hour, but waking up next to Ryou softened the blow. To his left, Ryou hand't even stirred at the harsh sound of the clock. He could probably sleep through an earthquake. Carefully, Marik rolled over again and nudged Ryou gently in the shoulder.

"Wake up, sleepy-head," he mumbled, still half asleep himself.

"Oh, I'm quite awake thanks to that blasted clock of yours."

Marik nearly had a heart attack. He jolted with such violence that he rolled off the bed, landing in a heap with the sheets tangled around him. The white-haired one sat up in the now-empty bed and smirked down at Marik.

"No…" Marik said slowly. "Y-You can't be … this has to … _Ryou, stop it!"_

Bakura laughed harshly, clearly amused by Marik's stuttering. The Egyptian's heart hammered against his ribcage as he beheld the man – no, the demon – in his bed.

"What are you doing here?!" Marik cried, finally regaining control over his tongue.

"Just came by to see and old friend."

"I'm not your friend! Look, I don't know how you got here, but you'd better – you'd better just go!" Marik exclaimed as he disentangled himself from the sheets and rose to stand.

Bakura climbed out of the bed and looked Marik up and down in a slow, obvious way. Marik shivered and snatched the closest article of clothing (Ryou's pale green shirt from the night before), yanking it over his head angrily. Bakura watched him the whole time, his arms across his chest and his mouth pulled into a crooked smirk. Though he, too, was naked but for Ryou's blue boxers, he made no move to cover up despite the clothing in various states of cleanliness strewn over most of the room.

"Don't come any closer!" Marik warned.

This seemed to amuse Bakura further. He stepped slowly over piles of clothing and other things, closing the distance between the two of them. When he was but two paces away, he made as if to lunge at Marik – then laughed uproariously when Marik flinched so hard he took half a step back.

"Scared, Marik?" he asked though his laughter. "What's the term you humans use…? Two for flinching!"

Marik glared at him. "Is there something you want, or are you just here to torment me?"

Bakura grinned, showing his teeth. "Don't worry, what I want can wait. I'm very patient. You have somewhere to be, or do you rise at six in the morning for the fun of it?"

Marik swore, his eyes darting towards the alarm clock. Giving Bakura one last dirty look, he grabbed his work clothes from the closet and ran out of the room. Bakura's laughter followed him to the bathroom where he was finally able to drown it out by turning on the tap.

When he crept out of the bathroom some twenty minutes later, showered and dressed, the apartment was silent. Hoping that it meant Bakura was gone and Ryou had fallen asleep, he grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on the breakfast bar and ran out the door. He didn't relax until he'd caught his bus into the city, and that relaxation was short-lived. It struck him then, the awful thought that would haunt him every time Bakura appeared – if Bakura had managed to cling to this world despite the destruction of the Millennium Items … was it possible that Marik's own dark side was still lurking around somewhere in the recesses of his mind?

Despite the warmth of the spring day, Marik shivered through the rest of the ride to work.


End file.
